


fallen ardor

by sheengyi (colouring)



Category: f(x)
Genre: Gen, ballet!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 16:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9770909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colouring/pseuds/sheengyi
Summary: Soojung loves the spotlight





	

**Author's Note:**

> hello! please excuse any wrong ballet references, but do let me know about it.
> 
> previously posted on livejournal under sheengyi

transient shadows of the outside world begin to dance under the dim lighting of the studio. dust particles from cracks here and there swirl in the chilly air, pirouetting to the faint chirps of the morning calm. the sun emerges; a hazy glow enters the studio through a window at the back, casting a rosy-pink spotlight on the wooden panels.  
  
  
  
a few prances in front, soojung stands tall and proud, one leg protruding with a pointed toe, her delicate arms parallel to each other, extended a few inches from her body. she sees nothing of her perfect stature though – a pale, gaunt face, _her_ pale and gaunt face completely haunts her line of vision. the hair on her bare skin stiffens.  sneering dark brown orbs jeer at every jut of her willowy arms, every tiny plethora of her svelte legs, the hints of white gauze peeking-  
  
  
  
_no_ , soojung shakes her head hurriedly. she drops her head down, breathes in small pockets of cold air in counts of 3s and tries to recreate the wall in her mind.  
  
  
  
_think of piano tunes, think of fast running keys,  think of mellow violin chords harmonizing with steady bass beats in allegretto_  
  
  
  
breathing steadily, she lifts her head up again. soft chocolate eyes greet her and suddenly her mind is clear, the wall reconstructed and tucked well away. the needles at the back of her neck disappear and she can hear something.  
  
  
  
the music starts.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
her first steps are jittery and rigid. the wooden panels squeak in response when the base of her flats fall with a thud as she lands from a poorly-executed _jete_. all she’s hearing are a mesh of chords, notes and beats playing together at the same time in a baffling cacophony. frustrated, she closes her eyes and envisions the counts playing in her head – one count, two counts, three counts –  
  
  
  
_Oh it's that_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
the cacophony fades. strings of melody flood her head and her feet immediately take control. soojung feels elated; it's been long since she felt the melody run through her veins, guiding her across the room in a series of twirls and turns. her thin skirt flutters with a light step here and two quicker strides there. she creates circular patterns with the swing of her arms, before resting them, locking her elbows in akimbo.  
  
  
  
_andante_ ends.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
the music speeds up. her glides quicken faster than she can register _allegretto_  and her feet only touch the ground for a few seconds before they are leaping in the air again. she feels the familiar rush of cold air as she spins in a _fouette en tournant_ , her messy chocolate bun billowing and slowly losing shape. soojung doesn't care though; she misses the cold air like she misses an old friend. her only friend.  
  
  
  
the sun is higher up and the spotlight, now a dazzling shade of amber, shifts closer and closer to her. she leaps once more - and her body is awashed in its warm touches, her pale skin glittering as the light reflects off of it. _finally_ , soojung thinks, _acknowledgement_.  
  
  
  
it gives her power, this natural spotlight. she feels as if she can conquer the world and the heavens and everything in between.  confidently she lifts her heels up, balancing on her toes _en pointe_. there is a slight strain on her right foot, but soojung blatantly ignores it and gradually begins to raise her left leg higher and higher to 90 degrees, 120 degrees and finally-  
  
  
  
_an arabesque. i’m doing it_  
  
  
  
she gazes at her reflection. gracing her vision is no longer a broken girl but an exquisite ballerina, famous and dazzling, receiver of adorations and praises, her recitals laden with grand rose bouquets and standing ovations-  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
and suddenly everything blurs. meshed colours bombard her sight and she’s tumbling, _tumbling_ , faster and faster, a searing pain somewhere below, overtaking every feeling she has. she drops on the panels in a limp, a messy heap of fabric and limbs, arms at awkward angles and sweat dropping furiously from her forehead.  she tries to get up but her mind is in a frenzy, her every thought in mindless agony. she thinks she hears a rapid succession of steps, but she’s not sure because she’s also hearing rambles and alarms and broken shards.  
  
  
  
soojung fights for her consciousness but she’s slowly slipping _slipping_  
  
  
  
  
the last thing she sees are tears , a broken figure and the spotlight, two glides forward in the harshest shade of gold she’s ever seen.


End file.
